Jonnie Torricelli was a fine looking girl, a real dish. The kind of bird that turned a lot of heads. One head that was turned right now belonged to Vinny de Paola, a wiseguy who was leaning back in a little chair at a table in the Torricelli family's pasticceria. Vinny was eyeing Jonnie up and down.

"Sorry it took me so long, Vinny," the girl said as she set a cup of coffee down on the little table. "It's just been so busy, you know? The whole neighborhood's been in here this morning."

"No problem, dollface," Vinny replied.

Jonnie was his kinda girl. He'd known her since she was a kid, but as he watched her stepping up to his table now, with her sweet hips swinging as she walked, he knew the little bird wasn't a kid no more. The plain brown dress she wore for work didn't show off her figure to her advantage, but Vinny had a good eye for assessing the fairer sex, and a keen imagination as well, and he could tell that Jonnie was just the right sort of woman in just the right sort of places He might have to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Torricelli about improving their daughter's work attire. Something a little tighter around the waist would help the shop sell more pastries, you know?

"You're lookin fine today, Jonnie," he said, even though she was looking a little ragged from the morning rush.

A sweet spot of pink flashed across the girl's fine high cheekbones. "Thanks, Vinny," she said.

"Why don't you sit down? Take a load of those pretty gams."

"Don't mind if I do," she said. The girl pulled out a chair and sat down across the table from Vinny, stretching her legs out into the aisle. Vinny admired those pretty legs, long and shapely. Lord what a looker she was. It wasn't hard to imagine those legs wrapped around his waist.

"Giovanna!" a man's voice hollered loud from behind the counter. "Where the devil did that girl get to now?"

"I'm sitting with Vinny, Pappa!" Jonnie hollered back.

A man scurried out from behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. "G'morning, Smooth!" he said to Vinny, extending his hand.

Vinny stood up and shook the man's hand. "Good morning, Mr. Torricelli," he said.

"You take a break now, Giovanna," the man said to the girl. "Keep Mr. de Paola company, you hear? I'll get your mamma to help these customers." There was already a line forming at the counter.

Jonnie blushed and smiled sheepishly at Vinny as a plump older woman came running out from the back of the store, tying on an apron and chattering in Italian with a similarly plump older woman standing at the counter. "Buongiorno signora Santelli," she said. "Buongiorno Lucia..." the other answered.

"So, looks like the store is doing great," Vinny said to Jonnie.

"It's amazing," Jonnie answered. "The whole neighborhood's coming in this morning."

Vinny nodded. "Everybody was heartbroken after the fire. The best damn pasticceria in town, closed down and boarded up! It's sure good to have you back in business."

"We're mighty thankful to you, Vinny," she said, "stepping up like you did to help us out."

"Anything for a doll like you, Jonnie. You know that."

The truth is that it didn't really have a whole lot to do with Jonnie, nor the Torricelli family, although Vinny would sure play it up that way if it might help him find his way to having Jonnie's long legs wrapped around him. But the truth is that the fire had been the result of a shakedown by some punks trying to establish themselves in the neighborhood, and there was no way Vinny's boss would stand for that. The punks were at the bottom of the East River now, and his boss had offered up some dough to make sure the pasticceria reopened so that all the other wise guys around would know that there ain't no way he'd let a pastry shop in his neighborhood close just because of some trash moving in on his turf.

"A little investment in a pasticceria seems like a good way to get rid of some of my excess cash," Vinny's boss had said to him. "What is the name of that place again?"

"La Torta alla Crema," Vinny answered.

"Oh yeah, that's the place. They make a good sfogliatina as I recall."

"Sure do, the best in town, or at least it was," Vinny replied.

"And you're sweet on the Torricelli girl, right? What's her name?"

Vinny smiled at his boss. "Ah, well, you know. Giovanna. She's a looker."

His boss gave him an eye. "You're not thinking of turning her into one of your working girls, are you?"

"She'd sure fetch a pretty penny."

His boss shook his head. "The Torricellis are a good family, Vinny. Don't you be doing that to them. She'll make you a better wife than a whore. Now get outta here and make sure they know where this money's coming from."

Vinny was thinking over what his boss had said as he gave the girl's legs another look. He wasn't interested in a wife, but it was true that Jonnie was too good a dame to be working the streets. But the chick could dance, that's for sure, everybody knew that. Maybe that's how Vinny could make a profit off her talents?

While he was thinking these thoughts, the door to the shop swung open again and two neighborhood cops walked. "Well if it ain't Vinny the Smooth." one of them said as they stopped at the table where Vinny and Jonnie were sitting.

Vinny nodded to them, not standing up. "Hello Mac, Sarge," he said.

The coppers eyed Jonnie all up and down. "You're looking mighty grown up, Miss Torricelli," the copper called Mac said.

"Thank you, sir," Jonnie replied curtly.

"You working for Vinny now?" the cop asked her. "What's he charge for an hour with you? Ten bucks?"

"Did you come in here to insult my girl, Mac?" Vinny said. "Or just to show your ugly mug around the place?"

"Oh, your girl?" the copper said. "Ain't that sweet! Did you put a ring on her finger before you put your cock in her cunt?"

Vinny grinned at him. "Sad to report that I ain't done neither of those things yet."

Jonnie's pretty cheeks went red.

The sergeant whacked his batton against his hand. "That's enough, Mac. Go get us some coffee, would you?" The other copper gave a smirk and walked over to the counter, butting in line in front of the others like he owned the place.

"Now listen up Smooth," the sergeant said to Vinny. "We know what's going on here, you got it? You tell your boss that we're on to this place."

"This is just a fine Italian pastry shop, Sarge. Ain't nothing more than that. Go ahead and try a torta, tell Mrs. Torricelli that Vinny says it's on the house."

The sergeant nodded. "I'll do that Vinny, and you tell your boss what I said, you hear?"

"Sorry about that," Vinny said after the sergeant left the two of them alone again. "You know what cops are like."

"No problem, Vinny," she said.

"I shouldn't'a let Mac talk to you like that. I should'a cocked him one in the mug. You give me the word, sweetheart, and I'll shut him up for good."

"You did just fine, Smooth. I liked what you said."

Vinny smiled at her. "Hey Jonnie, I was thinking, after you close up the shop maybe you and I should go out dancing? You know, to celebrate the grand reopening?"

"Sounds nice, Vinny. But I was thinking of maybe doing something special for our customers tonight."

"Oh yeah? What you got in mind?"

"I was thinking, if we sell out all the pastries today, I could do a little dancing for our best customers. What do you think of that?"

"Well, I think you're a fine dancer, that's for sure."

"I know that, Vinny," she said, "and you know I've always liked to dance for you. You think the other men in the neighborhood might like it, too, if I do a little dancing for them?"

"Damn right they will," Vinny answered.

"Will you spread the word, that if they make sure we sell all the pastries, I'll do a little dancing after the store is closed?"

"I will, dollface. I'll spread the word."

"And Vinny?"

"Yeah?"

"You think if I give 'em a good show, they'll come back again tomorrow and buy up all the pastries again?"

Vinny raised his eyebrows. "How good a show are you talking about, doll?"

"I'll only go as far as you want me to, Vinny. But I could take a little off, just to make sure they're happy."

"Sounds like a good plan to me, sweetheart."

"Really? You'd be OK if I took a little off while I dance?"

Vinny nodded. "I'd like that, Jonnie. I'd like that a lot. And the more you take off, the better."

"I just want to make sure the men come back and buy more pastries," she said. "But for you, Vinny, I'd take it all off, if that's what you'd want."

"You take it all off, dollface, and I'll make sure the men come back."

"You're the best, Vinny!" she grinned. "I better get back to work now. See you back here at closing time?"

"I'll be here, dollface, and I'll make sure you've got a good crowd, too. You can count on that."

"O! Buona sera, signor de Paola," Mrs. Torricelli said as Vinny walked into La Torta alla Crema that evening. "Giovanna, il signor de Paola e qui!" she hollered to the back room.

"Vengo, Mamma!" the girl's beautiful silken voice rang through the door.

"Buona sera, signora Torricelli," Vinny answered the woman's greeting.

"I am sorry, Signor, but we have sold the last of our pastries to these gentlemen over there," the woman said, nodding in the direction of two tables crowded with men from the neighborhood. Piles of pastries sat on plates before the men, who waved wordlessly to Vinny, their mouths too full of sfogliatina to talk. Vinny was glad to see that the men had done what they were told, buying out all the remaining pastries so that they could get a nice little dance from Jonnie that night.

"Non ce di che, signora Torricelli," he said. "Una limonata, per favore, grazie."

"Mr. Torricelli and I were just about to leave for home," she said as she set a bottle on the counter for him. "Giovanna will close the store, and would be most grateful if you would walk her home tonight."

"Will do, Mrs. Torricelli," he said, as the beautiful Giovanna came walking through the door.

"Vinny!" she said with a radiant smile.

"Hiya dollface," he responded.

Mr. Torricelli came out of the back room himself, pulling on his topcoat. "Hello again, Mr. de Paola," he said to Vinny, then offered his arm to his wife. "I hope you are doing well?"

"Quite fine, thank you, sir."

"Lock the door when you leave, Giovanna," he said to his daughter as he and his wife stepped out the door.

"Si, pappa." she answered.

Mr. Torricelli tipped his hat to Vinny as they left.

Johnnie walked to the door and watched her parents disappear down the street. "I'll go change now," she whispered to Vinny when they were gone from sight.

Vinny strolled over to the tables where the neighbor men sat with their pile of pastries.

"Heya, boys," he said.

"Heya, Smooth," they said back.

"We done what you asked, Vinny," one of them said. "We bought everything they had left."

"Yep, ya done good, boys."

"It's gonna be worth it, right, Smooth?" another one said. "Gonna be worth our money?"

"It'll be worth it," he answered.

The door to the back room swung open and Jonnie walked into the room. One of the men let out a low whistle. She had on a pair of heels that made those long gams of hers look smart, and a dark blue sequined dress that came no further than mid-way down her thighs and clung to her body like it was painted on by an artist. And what a body the dame had! Still not quite a grown woman yet, but definitely not a girl. She had long white gloves pulled up past her elbows and a sequin headband with a feather. As she walked through the room, she twirled around, the skirt of the dress spreading open and lifting up some more. The men whistled again in response.

Jonnie walked over to the radio and turned the dial from a station playing old Italian songs, to one from Harlem playing the newest music. She turned the volume up nice and high and started dancing.

The girl could dance, that's for sure. The best in the neighborhood. She danced the Charleston for the crowd of men, her arms and legs swinging to the beat of the music and all the men clapping and cheering along.

After a couple of upbeat songs, the station switched to a slower number, and Jonnie started giving the men a sultry dance, swinging her hips and turning around and letting her backside sway. She lifted the dress up a bit and a couple of the men let out a little hoot.

She turned back to face the men again, lifting the skirt of the dress a little higher.

"What do you think, boys?" she asked as she swayed her skinny hips. "Should I lift my dress?"

There was loud agreement amongst the men that she ought to do just that.

But Jonnie gave the boys a pouty look. "I ain't got nothing on underneath. You wouldn't want me to show that off to you, would you?"

More hooting and hollering left no doubt as to how the men felt.

She danced over to where Vinny was sitting. "How about you, Smooth. You wanna peek?"

"I sure do, dollface," he answered.

Swaying her hips, she lifted her dress, high enough that Vinny got a nice look at her teenage pussy, a fresh little bush of dark curls. She dropped the skirt after a second or two and turned to the other men.

"How about the rest of you boys? You wanna peek?"

"Yes we do, Miss Torricelli, yes we do!"

"You boys promise to come back tomorrow and spend lots more money on pastries?" she asked.

"Yes we do, Miss Torricelli, yes we do!"

"Alright then," she said softly in her low silken voice. Then she lifted the dress and showed her pussy to all the men.

She danced for a little while, hips swaying and backside swinging, holding her dress up to her waist. After a bit, she turned back to Vinny.

"What do you think, Smooth?" she asked him. "Should I take it all the way off?"

"I think you should, baby," he answered.

A couple of the men had stood up and were unzipping their trousers and fishing their cocks out. She turned towards them, swaying to the music. "What are you boys doing?" she asked.

"Enjoying the show!" one of them answered.

"Glad you like it! So do you boys think I should take this dress all the way off?"

"Yes we do, Miss Torricelli, yes we do!"

Jonnie pulled the dress up while she swayed her hips. A couple more men joined the first two, standing up and jacking off as they watched a pair of perfect teenage tits pop free of her tight sequin dress, bouncing up and down once or twice before they settled into place. They were round and firm and even though they were a decent handful, they still looked like the tits of a young girl, topped with the smartest pink nipples, pointing skyward and showing off their stiff little dark red teats.

She tossed the dress to the side, and all the men were standing around her in a circle now with their cocks in their hands. And right then the radio switched back to playing an upbeat number, and Jonnie started dancing the Charleston again, buck naked now except for her heels and her long white gloves and the headband with the feather.

It was the finest Charleston the men had ever seen, Jonnie dancing with great enthusiasm, her firm young tits bouncing along to the rhythm of the song as she kicked her heels and swung her arms, dipping and swaying. Seeing sweet Jonnie's little bush and swinging tits was more than any man could take for long, and about half-way through the dance the first of the men in the circle around her started popping off. Frankie was his name, just a kid not much older than Jonnie herself, and he aimed his cock at her backside as he came.

Jonnie was so lost in her dancing that she barely noticed Frankie's cum splashing against her. It didn't even occur to her what it was, she just kept right on doing her naked Charelston and having the time of her life. When another man started ejaculating on her not long after Frankie had finished, she barely noticed this, either. By the time the third man aimed his cock at her and unloaded, she turned to look, and saw his cum shooting out and landing on her hip. Without even thinking, she dropped down onto her knees, each successive shot from his cock landing higher up her body until the last one splashed against her cheek. And now each of the remaining men walked up to her in turn, jacking off as they aimed their cocks at her face, one after another covering her in cum.

When they were all done, she turned to Vinny, who was sitting in a nearby chair watching the goings-on with an amused expression on his face.

"What about you, Smooth?" she said, cum dripping down her cheeks and nose and chin. "It's your turn now."

He stood up. "It looks like you got enough on you for one night, dollface. I'll save it for another time. Speaking of which, boys," he said to the men who were pulling their pants back up, "come back tomorrow and buy up all the remaining pastries, and Jonnie'll give you another dance, won't you, baby?"

"Sure will, Vinny," Jonnie answered as she walked, buck naked and dripping with cum, behind the counter to get herself a towel.

"You got it, Smooth," the men all said. "We'll be here."

"Good," he said back. "Now I got some business to do. You boys make sure Jonnie gets home safe, you hear?"

"You got it, Smooth," they all said again.

The next morning, Vinny's boys were unloading boxes from the back of a truck and carrying them through the back door of La Torta alla Crema, down the stairs into the cellar. Jonnie's father, Mr. Torricelli, walked into the alley, wiping his hands on his apron.

"So what is in the boxes, Vinny?" Mr. Torricelli asked in his thick Italian accent.

Vinny looked over at him, nodding as he bit his lower lip. "Best not to ask questions, Mr. Torricelli," he said. "The boss doesn't like people asking too many questions."

Mr. Torricelli narrowed his eyes and watched Vinny's boys for a while, then nodded himself. "Just don't... Do not mess things up, Vinny. Those cops that were here yesterday, they said they keeping an eye on the place. I do not want cops poking around here and finding things that ain't supposed to be."

"Don't worry about those coppers, old man," Vinny said. "We'll take care of them just fine. I like to keep the cops in my neighborhood happy, then they aren't so likely to snoop around so much." He smiled at the man.

Mr. Torricelli nodded. "OK then, I trust you, Vinny." They both stood silent for a moment and watched Vinny's boys unload the last of the boxes from the truck. "When you're done back here, come around front and we'll get you a pastry, I have made a fine bocconotto and I would like to know what you think of it. I will have Giovanna bring it to you, yes?"

Jonnie sat down at Vinny's table with a cup of coffee. "I like it when you visit us, Vinny. Mamma and Pappa always tell me to take a break and talk to you." She smiled at him.

"That's sweet of them, dollface, ain't it?"

"Uh huh. Sorry you didn't get a chance to finish up last night, Vinny. If you'd stuck around after I cleaned up, I would have made it worth your time."

"That sounds nice, baby. But me and the boys had a pick up we had to make,"

"Those boxes?" she asked.

"Might have been, or might not have. The less you know about my business, the better, Jonnie."

"Yeah but..." Jonnie looked down at the table for a moment, then looked back up at him. "You can tell me, Vinny, 'cause I'm your girl, right? That's what you told the coppers, right? That I'm your girl?"

"Are you my girl, Jonnie?" Vinny asked her.

She stood up. "You stick around after my dancing tonight, Vinny, OK? I'll show you that I'm your girl."

Vinny came walking up from the cellar carrying a couple bottles filled with an amber-colored liquid. "Finest stuff around," he said as cracked the seal on one of them and poured a bump for each of the men sitting around the table, and one for Jonnie, too, who was already dressed up nice in her pretty sequined blue dress. "The best Jamaican rum you ever drank."

Jonnie and the rest of them all took a sip, and then voiced their agreement with the Smooth.

He lifted his glass. "A toast!"

They lifted their glasses, too.

"To my girl," Vinny said, "the finest dancer in town."

"You're too sweet, Vinny!"

"Bottom's up!" he said, and they all drank down their rum. He poured another round.

By the time they'd opened the second bottle, the radio was playing the Charleston again and Jonnie was dancing for the men. Vinny made sure that her glass was kept full of rum while she danced, and by the time she'd polished off her fifth glass, she was tripping over her feet a bit too much. Vinny stood up.

"Hey, dollface," he said. "I think you're a bit too drunk to be dancing any more."

"I guess so, Vinny," she said. "Sorry."

"Hey, don't be sorry, I got other things in mind. Boys, go ahead and finish off that bottle if you want. Me and Jonnie got us some business to attend to." He took her arm, to steady her, and walked her behind the counter, then he turned her to face away from him and put his hand on her back and pushed her face-first down onto the counter.

"Vinny..." she said as he lifted her dress and fished his cock out of his trousers, "Vinny! Right here? In front 'a all these men?"

"Sure, baby," he answered. "They won't mind, will you, boys?"

"No we won't, Smooth!" the men all answered, lifting their glasses to him.

"Bu..."

"Hush now," he said, and he grabbed her ass cheeks and spread them open, then pushed his thick cockhead into her wet and waiting cunt.

"Guhhh," she groaned when he entered her, and then he pulled back and slid in again. Jonnie was tight as hell, but Vinny could tell he wasn't her first. That made him smile as he started moving freely in and out of her. He always figured the girl was a little slut.

He'd barely been going at it for more than a minute when the front door of the pasticceria swung open. In walked the two cops, Mac and Sarge.

"Well!" the sergeant said, looking at Jonnie pushed over the counter and Vinny riding her from behind. "What do we have here?"

"Hiya, boys," Vinny said, not missing a beat. "What can we do you for?"

The sergeant looked over at the other men. "What ya drinking, there, gents?"

"Just a little tea, Sarge," one of them answered.

Vinny was still sliding in and out of his girl's tight cunt. "It's Jamaican rum, Sarge. Finest you ever tasted. Hey Frankie!" he shouted to one of the men, "pour my friends here a bump!"

"Rum, is it? So that what's in those boxes your boys were unloading into the cellar this morning, Smooth?"

"Boxes?"

"Don't play dumb with us, Vinny," the sergeant said.

"Tell you what, boys, if you forget all about those boxes, then once I'm done here, you can have a go at this sweet little cunt."

"What?" Jonnie said, looking over her shoulder back at the man. "Vinny!"

"Come on, dollface, it's for the good of the pasticceria."

"But..."

"Whadda ya say, Sarge?" Mac asked his boss. "Seems like a good idea to me!"

The Sarge was already unzipping his pants. "Boxes? What boxes?" All the men had a good laugh at that. "But I ain't waiting long, Vinny," he said. "You finish up quick or get out of my way now."

"I like to take my time when I'm in a fine dame's cunt, Sarge," Vinny said.

"Well, alright then, I'll just use her mouth while I'm waiting."

"My mouth?" Jonnie's eyes went wide as the sergeant stepped up to the front of the counter and waved his cock in her face.

"Sure! I imagine a girl like you is quite skilled with her mouth, right, missy?"

She shook her head. "No! I ain't never! Vinny!"

"Quiet, dollface, just make the sergeant happy."

"Yep, time to make me forget about the boxes, girl."

"Bu..." Jonnie's objection turned into a gurgle as Sarge stuffed his cockhead into her mouth.

The first taste of cock in Jonnie's life wasn't exactly what she might have hoped it'd be. The sergeant was an unpleasant overweight man with a stubby fat little dick, and while Vinny held tight to her ass and slammed his cock in and out of her cunt, Sarge grabbed a couple fist-fulls of her hair and started fucking her face.

Frankie came over and handed the cops their glasses of rum. The sergeant took a big swig. "Woah, this is good stuff, Vinny, you ain't kidding."

"Nothing but the best for the police in my neighborhood," Vinny said.

"I gotta agree with you there, Smooth," he said as he took another drink while pounding his cock into the back of Jonnie's mouth. "Your girl is even finer than your rum. I'm about ready to blow!"

"That's my boy, Sarge! You give her a nice load of cream!"

"Damn right I will, Vinny!" the copper shouted, pressing down on the girl's head to hold it tight in place as he rammed in and out. "Oh fuck," the man grunted, and his stout little copper dick started spurting.

"Guuugh," Jonnie gurgled as her mouth overflowed with the man's hot cum, spilling around the edges of her lips. When he pulled out of her, he quickly put his glass of rum against her lips and tipped it up.

"Drink it down, baby, it's good for you!" he said.

Watching his girl gulp down her rum-and-cum cocktail caused Vinny's cock to start twitching. He held tight to her ass and pounded her. "Oh yeah, Jonnie!" he shouted. "I'm gonna fill your business end, too!" He slammed his thick hard cock as deep into her as it would go and unleashed his cream into her sixteen year old womb. "There you go, dollface!" he yelled. "Take your man's cum!"

He held his cock inside her while it twitched through the final shots of his orgasm. By then, Mac, the other copper, had walked around behind the counter to join him. When Vinny pulled his dick out of Jonnie's cunt and stepped aside, Mac's went right in. At the same time, at the front of the counter, Frankie dropped his pants and shoved his cock into her mouth.

Vinny and the sergeant sat down at a little table nearby, sipping rum and watching while the two new paramours fucked Jonnie front and back and then filled the little tart with cream. As soon as they were done, two more men took their places. And so it went; all the men that were there that night had a turn at her, most of them more than once, until all the pasticceria's customers were completely satisfied.

Finally Jonnie rolled off the counter and stood up on wobbly knees.

"How ya doing, dollface?" Vinny asked her.

"Doin' OK, Vin, a little sore I guess."

"I suppose. How 'bout I walk you home once we get this place locked up."

"I'd appreciate tha', Vin."

"Hey, you're my girl now, right? Anything for my girl."

She gave him a little smile as she ushered the men out of the store. "So boys," she said, "you all gonna come back tomorrow night for another dance, right?"

"Yes we will, Miss Torricelli," the men all answered. "Yes we will!"